People In Glass Offices Shouldn't Race Stretchers
by silverfingers
Summary: A loving! parody of House, M.D. Lollipops! Vasculitis! Cuddy! iPods! A suspicious lack of patients! Now with 60 percent more personality disorders and twice the calcium.
1. Stretcher Drag Racing!

All right, everyone;

I had to redo this story ENTIRELY. Why? Because the ff.n admin nutjobs finally caught onto the script format I was using when I had it posted before. So, this new chapter1 had to be completely reworked due to my refusal to let a good thing go. I think it's suffering because of not being in script format; be sure to let me know what you think. If everybody's just apathetic about this and I don't get that many reviews, I don't think it will be worth painfully redoing every chapter to conform with the bizarre script format rule.

Bitterness aside, thanks for reading this! There is some mocking of Cameron in there, but then again, there is some mocking of _everybody._ No-one is spared. If it seems like I'm anti-Cam/racist/whatever because of that, be assured that I am not, nor do I mean to come off that way. (I don't think I did...maybe slightly anti-Cam...but I love Cam...house/cam forever...)

Disclaimer: I do not own House, M.D.

It was like any other day at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Any other boring day, that is. But hey, you know these guys: they put the 'fun' in dysfunctional. Doctors Chase, Cameron and Foreman were drinking coffee in the break room (you know, the one with the whiteboard), doing the medical crossword, and showing off their various personality disorders. Shortly their misanthropic boss, Dr. Gregory House will come in, having been booted out of a more luxurious lounge belonging to another department yet _again. _

"I finished the crossword!" said Chase triumphantly.

"Chase. Please. Nobody cares. You just look pretty. That is the only reason you're here," responded Cameron. Chase's inane drivel was interrupting her mooning over House, which requires complete concentration. Sometimes it can be hard to remember why you're in love with an abrasive older cripple who never shaves. Fortunately, that sort of thing turns Cameron on.

"And your accent is cute," added Foreman.

Chase and Cameron looked uncomfortable. Could Foreman be gay? He seemed to have no other obvious hidden problems or secrets, and nobody, _nobody_ at this place is ever that simple to figure out. Foreman looked from Cameron to Chase, realizing what they were thinking.

"FOR THE LAST TIME!" he exploded. "I AM NOT GAY. HOW MANY PHARMECUTICAL REPS DO I HAVE TO SLEEP WITH BEFORE YOU WAKE UP AND SMELL THE COFFEE?"**  
**"Can we get back to me now?" interrupted Chase.

"Chase, that's rude," scolded Cameron.

"Awww, great." Groaned Foreman. "Now he's gonna pout."

Chase did indeed pout, until Cameron gave him one of the lollipops they all like to pretend is for the little kids, but are really for when Chase throws a tantrum. Doctor Chase, delighted by the bright colors and the funny sound the crinkly plastic made, was pacified.

"You, know, he's gonna be on a sugar high in about ten minutes-" began Foreman, butChase decided to remind everyone that he has finished the crossword puzzle.Unfortunately he was too enthusiastic and choked on a combination of the lollipop and his own spit. Both Doctors Cameron and Foreman embarrassedly decided to pretend not to notice. In their hurry to cover the hacking and gasping as their colleague finally dislodges the lolly from his trachea, they began talking loudly about themselves. Some things should be left unsaid.

"I'm hot but apparently unaware of it…OR AM I?" said Cameron, staring off into space.

"Why do I work here?" Foreman mused aloud. "I mean; I hate House, our misanthropic boss. You two are weird, and-" Just then, Dr. House himself limped in. "Oh look," said Dr. Chase, "It's our misanthropic boss, Dr. Gregory House."

"I know. It says that on his door. Well, except for the 'misanthrope' part. Speaking of which, why are all the walls here made of glass?" asked Cameron.

House responded with something sarcastic, while Cameron fetched him some coffee, giving him a dopey, lovesick look.

"Here's some coffee. I love you…OR DO I?" she said. "I definitely did in Season One, but this season I am claiming to hate you. I could be simply smarting from rejection, but on the other hand, that could be the wishful thinking of a House/Cam fan–"

"House/Cam?" said Chase, looking up from his covert pilfering of the lollipop bowl.

"Season?" asked Foreman. "This is not a TV show, Cameron." Cameron put a hand to her forehead, looking dazed.

"You're-you're right, of course. I don't know what came over me."

Everyone was staring at the befuddled Cameron when Dr. Wilson poked his head around the door frame to greet House "Hello, my crusty misanthropic friend. How's it-OH NO, HERE COMES CUDDY! LIMP, HOUSE! LIMP LIKE THE WIIIND!" Dr House sprang into action with an undignified cry of "AUGH! CUDDY! SERPENTINE! SERPINTINE!"

House tried to get away, but alas; Dr. Cuddy has no infarction in her leg and, unusually for…well, anybody, is unafraid of House. She alone has power over him. Power that not even House, who has tenure, can counter. Yes, only Cuddy can walk up to House and say…

"Hello, House. It is I, Dr. Cuddy, your boss." House was suddenly projecting an air of calmness, betrayed by his heavy breathing form all that speed-limping. "I know it's you. Whoa, that is a low-cut shirt." Dr. House's comment sent Cuddy into a sudden spasm of rage. "YOU DON'T OWN ME! JERK!" she shrieked. As you see, Cuddy does indeed have personality problems of her own. It's all one big happy family here. House covertly turned on his iPod. He enjoys doing this whenever Cuddy rants and she rarely, if evernotices, even that time when his air-guitar got so vigorous he accidentally gave her a bloody nose.

"I CAN WEAR THIS SHIRT IF I WANT TO!" cuddy continued. "MEN ARE PIGS! GUYS DON'T HAVE TO WEAR BRAS! IN FACT, GUYS CAN GO SHIRTLESS IF THEY WANT AND NOBODY ARRESTS THEM. "INDECENT EXPOSURE", MY-

House, realizing his iPod is no longer sufficient to drown out her rhetoric, chooses instead to escape while Cuddy is distracted/temporarily insane with rage. He leaves. Fast. Seriously, this 'cripple' is motoring. There are those who think that that would be beneath House, but actually, farther down the hall he grabs a stretcher and hops up on it, propelling himself down the hall with his cane while going 'Yeehaw!' Nobody objects to this, as they can all hear Cuddy. House is momentarily tempted to join in a drag race with another person on a stretcher, but soon realizes that she is, in fact, a legitimate patient. On her way to heart surgery, in fact.

Again, some people would not believe House would do this. But he did.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

All right, you've read, now it's time for feedback! YAY! What was funny? What was not? How is the new writing style working out? New reader? Old fan of the fic? I don't care!

Two things: 1. I know this chapter was short; I wanted to see if people would like it again before I rewrote a lot of it.

2. Recently I've noticed that the upload process fuses a couple words together here and there in my chappies; I just wanted you to know that I do actually use the spacebar.

The floor is lava,  
Silverifngers


	2. Somebody Give Them A Patient

Christmas Eve update! Merry/happy Christmahanukwanzeid-al-Solstice, everyone!

Disclaimer: If House is owned by Fox, and I am not Fox, then I do not own House. It's the transitive property of equality! (It's a math thing. I know I'm a nerd.)

ATTENTION: For reasons I do not understand, my chappies will look perfectly fine when I upload them. However, when I hit 'submit chapter', a few words get fused here and there. I beg your forgiveness and just wanted to let y'all know that I DO know what a spacebar is; blame the computer. Also, I am having issues with line break dividers, to let you know in my writing when I'm trying to indicate a time lapse or something. So I'm using ones like this, in honor of the holiday season:

**MerryChristmasHappyHanukkahHappyKwanzaaEidMubarak**

The next day, House limped in to find only Chase in the breakroom. He doesn't let that put him off his scheduled itinerary, however.

"Dr. Chase! Report! What can I mock today, besides you?" Chase sighed and put down the day's crossword. Looked like his House-free alone time was over.

"Well, I'm still a prettyboy, and Dr. Foreman is still black. Oh, and we have a problem." House made a face, although perhaps it was at the mocha-latte-black-walnut-and-seaweed-yuck coffee Cameron had brought in.

"Not a patient! I hate those."

"No, not a patient," replied Chase. "Eighteen little girls with cancer, three with other incurable diseases, and one very desperate grown woman have all checked into the hospital and are all requesting treatment from me. I think that one eight-year-old I had pity on and kissed blabbed about it. The new ones won't stop flirting with me and it's freaking me out."

"Chase…" sighed House, "I think we both know that your problems don't interest me. Actually, everybody's problems interest me, but it's no fun if you just tell me. I have to go on a scavenger hunt, hide in the clinic, and read everybody's files/medical records/secret diaries."

"Well, we have other problems if mine aren't good enough. Wilson accidentally let Cameron talk to some of his cancer patients and now she has 6 new terminal best friends and a new dying boyfriend."

House was stared off into the distance and was silent. You'd think these constant silences whenever someone says anything about Cameron being romantically connected with anyone would mean he likes her, but nooooo, as soon as Stacy shows up it's all about **her**.

Suddenly, Cameron came in, tailed by a guy that neither Chase nor house recognized. She seemed very chipper.

"Hey, guys! This is Stan, my new-"

But, alas for Dr. Cameron, Stan took this opportunity to prove that he did indeed have a fatal disease and was not making it up to score points with her.

Cameron stared at Steve's body, blinking. "Dang, he died. I'm gonna need some time off to cry …then I guess I'll make some new dying friends!"

House said nothing.

"C'MON HOUSE!" yelled Wilson suddenly. Everybody jumped; when the heck did he show up? "STACY OR CAMERON? YOU CAN'T HAVE THESE MEANINGFUL SILENCES FOR BOTH OF THEM! PICK!"

There was an awkward silence, until finally,

"Where did _you_ come from?" asked House, giving his coffee cup to Cameron. (Hey, she was just _standing _there)

"I…I got lonely,"said Wilson quietly, staring at his shoes. "All my female cancer patients have switched to Chase and all the guys are going for Cameron."

"You know," said Foreman to Cameron, as House said something sarcastic to Wilson,"It can be more worthwhile to date people who aren't terminal. Not to mention more psychologically healthy."

"If I wanted 'psychologically healthy', I wouldn't work here, would I?" responded Cameron. They both watched as Chase dared House to poke Stan's body with his cane.

**MerryChristmasHappyHanukkahHappyKwanzaaEidMubarak**

Later…

House blinked, resisting the urge to scour his eyeballs with steel wool.

"What? WHAT?" said Cuddy angrily. Greg averted his eyes as best he could.

"Um…You're in a bikini top."

"I GOT A LITTLE WARM!" screeched Cuddy, flying into a spasmodic rage. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! ARGH! MISANTHROPIC JERK! I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU….INTERNS!" she yelled in glee as House gasped in sheer horror. "MUAH HA HA!"

"Does anyone know what 'misanthropic' actually means?" asked Cameron, overhearing the exchange, as if it were possible not to overhear. "It's used to describe him on every synopsis of the show I read, and on the back of the Season 1 DVD."

Everybody exchanged worried looks but otherwise pretty much ignored this odd remark. Cameron had been making them more and more lately. Foreman had privately scheduled a lunch for her with one of the people from the psych ward.

"There she goes with the season thing again," said Chase.

"Huh?" said Cameron, as usual completely unaware of what she had just said.

"Misanthropic? I don't think it's a word," said Wilson quickly.

"…I diagnose vasculitis," chipped in Foreman, realizing he hadn't said anything in a while.

"We haven't had a patient yet this week," pointed out Cameron, dreamy spell over.

"Oh…yeah…well, when we do get one, remind me to think it's vasculitis," said Foreman. He returned tohis book of Sudoku puzzles knowing he had done all his diagnosing for the day. Perhaps later he would take a nap.

"Another thing: WHY must we attempt to diagnose vasculitis in EVERY EPISODE? Our patients have an amazing variety of symptoms, yet every week-" Cameron was off in la-la-TV-land again. Episode? Foreman shook his head. Hey, maybe she had vasculitis. It would explain why she was acting so weird lately…

**The next day**

"Hello, Wilson-"

"House! I'm so glad you're here. Stacy wants to kill you, Cameron is sobbing in the girl's bathroom, Chase just found out his dad is going to die of cancer approximately tomorrow and Cuddy showed up completely naked today." House's eyes got big. He hadn't asked for this. All he really came in for was to refill his Vicodin. "-Oh, and I redid your calculations and you're not going to be done in the clinic until 2145, not 2057," continued Wilson. "…House?"

Wilson looked around. The crickets chirped. House was gone.

"IT'S NOT LIKE YOU CAN BE SARCASTIC AT HOME!" Wilson called down the hallway. "THERE'S NOTHING THERE TO ANNOY! COME ON, DON'T LEAVE ME HERE ALONE AT THIS ASYLUM!"

The crickets chirped. House did not look back. Wilson looked around hopefully. Chirp, chirp.

"Waaaah," he wailed. "MY MARRIAGE IS SO UNFULFILLING!"

Wilson realized that an eerie silence has fallen and decided to say something to fill it. Again, some things should not be said.

"…I AM WEARING MY THURSDAY TIE! IT'S NOT THURSDAY! I FEEL DR. CHASE THREATENS MY MASCULINITY! I CAN'T TELL IF DR. FOREMAN IS STRAIGHT OR NOT! I'M THE ONE WHO MADE CUDDY GET HOUSE OFF VICODIN FOR A WEEK!"

Cameron heard the tirade as she was passing by. She shuddered and covered her ears with her clipboard. However, clipboards are only good for covering one ear, (unless you are someone who has so much paperwork they need two clipboards, which none of the slackers at this hospital do). So later the custodial staff put up a small, tasteful sign saying: LONELY WILSON AHEAD. NO ADMITTANCE WITHOUT EARPLUGS. Eventually, someone dragged Doctor House in from his nice, cozy home to be sarcastic at Wilson, and things worked out.

**MerryChristmasHappyHanukkahHappyKwanzaaEidMubarak**

The next day, which happened to be at Thursday, not that _you_ care, House walked into the break room. He abruptly stopped being sarcastic when he saw Dr. Chase, Senior and Dr. Cameron giggling together in a corner. Dr. Chase Junior was nowhere to be found.

"Cameron, what is Chase's dad doing here?" asked House. "He's got terminal cancer. Shouldn't he be writing his will or something?

"He's dying," said Cameron with a sad smile. "So, we're dating."

House was silent. When Dr Cuddy suddenly appeared, he didn't even try to limp away.

"HOW DO YOU KEEP FINDING ME?" he yelled.

That's not to say he wasn't ticked off. He just recognized the futility of running.

"I glued a GPS locator to your cane," said Dr. Cuddy:

House paused. "Really?"

Cuddy ignored this, knowing that it would be only a matter of time until House's Vicodin kicked in, he could ignore the pain in his leg, and he escaped. "I've got a patient for you."

Every neuron in House's miraculous genius brain fired, coming up with a myriad of lies and excuses for getting out of this, unless of course it involved Stacy. Luckily, however, Chase's dad provided a distraction by dying. Cameron realized that this would totally destroy Chase, who only yesterday was tossing a football around with his ol' dad, whom he loved now. So, she stuffed Dr. Chase Sr. underneath House's desk. Because nobody wanted Chase blubbering on them, they all agreed that they should wait until Chase notices that Cameron isn't dating his father anymore. Knowing Chase's powers of deduction, that could take awhile. If he eventually does notice, the group decided that House should break the news, because House the only one who might actually enjoy/videotape it. In all the confusion, everybody forgot about the patient Cuddy had mentioned.

**MerryChristmasHappyHanukkahHappyKwanzaaEidMubarak**

Merry Christmas to all,  
Silverfingers


	3. I Suppose Potatoes Count As Patients

House is not mine. Here's another update. I like pudding. Thanks to my reviewers. Check out my other fics as well. Theyare quite good. At least, I think so. My computer fuses words together between the time I save changes on the document and the time I update a fic. Have mercy. Happy New Year:-)

Random Quote of the Day: "In the beginning, there was nothing, which exploded". -Terry Pratchett

The brilliant team of doctors was in the lab, talking about things, when a topic came up. Topics often do that.

"Why does everybody here refer to everybody else by their last names? I mean _everybody,"_ Foreman asked irritably.

"Be quiet and concentrate on these tests," responded Chase. "If we botch them House will be sarcastic at us." He paused, and added, "…Eric," as Cameron walked in. She stopped.

"Eric? That's just wrong."

"Well, why?" said Foreman. "We call Stacy by her first name."

"No; her name is actually Stacy S. Stacy. You could argue it both ways, but technically we're using her last name."

"Really?" Chase asked, interested. "What does the S. stand for?"

"How the !#$ should I know?" said Cameron

Chase and Foreman stared. "I'm…I'm sorry," said Cameron. "Um. Is there anything I can do to help here?"

Foreman was still surprised at the normally sweet Cameron's outburst, but decided to ignore it. "Well," he said, "since Chase appears to have been analyzing a potato instead of the patient's blood cells, we need you to go and distract House so he won't get all...sarcastic at us when he finds out. Show some cleavage or somethi-"

"For the thousandth time!" interjected Chase. "This potato IS our patient!"

Both doctors nodded in a knowing way and patted Chase on the back.

"Sure, Chase," said Cameron in a sympathetic way.

"Of course it is," said Foreman.

"NO! REALLY! IT IS!" yelled Chase, annoyed. His colleagues sighed.

"All right, Chase," said Foreman in the voice of a mother who's patronized a toddler for long enough. "You wanna bet?"

Chase accepted bets from both his smug co-workers and they proceeded to Dr. House's office. Dr. House had gotten rid of that pesky desk and replaced it with something a little more in his playful, irresponsible nature. Except, unlike his other toys, this one is a wee bit bigger than the yo-yo.

"Dr. House," said Foreman exasperatedly, "will you please get out of the Fisher-Price Fun House 'n' Ball Pit long enough to look at these tests?" House went down the slide waving his cane. It bonked Cameron on the head, but she didn't seem to notice and he didn't seem to care. They stared at each other for a second.

Then another second. And another.

"Darnit," said Formean to Chase. "They're doing the lovestruck-glance thing again."

"What should we do?" In response, Foreman grabbed House's cane and pulled of the extrememly difficult Bonking-Two-People-On-The-Head-At-The-Same-Time manuever. Both House and cameron snapped out of it. Neither seemed aware of the time lapse. House blinked, trying to recall what Foreman had been saying. Ah yes. Ithad something to do with doing his job. Eww, gross, _work_.

"I don't really think that 'work' thing is going to work for me today. Sorry, guys."

Foreman looked pleadingly at Cameron, silently begging her to use her feminine wiles. He hadmoney riding on this thing now. Cameron twisted her mouth as she thought.

"Maybe I should get Dr. Cuddy-" she began.

Dr. House pole-vaulted out of the ball pit using his cane and seized the tests, scaning them intently for a few moments, since we all know that it only takes 3 seconds to get all the vital information about a test from a complicated chart.Med school is really just about perfecting the knack of opening the folder to magically the correct page every time.  
House gasped. Foreman and Cameron shared a smug grin, which was soon wiped away as he shouted: "EGAD! THIS POTATO IS DYING! RUN AN MRI AND CT SCANS, STAT!"

Cameron and Foreman's jaws dropped.

"Dr. House?" Cameron started timidly. "Aren't you worried as to why…um…Cuddy has assigned us a potato? Surely, this can't be-"

"Too late," groaned Foreman. "He's back on the trampoline. Looks like we really are treating a potato this week Great! I have to give Chase $100 in lollipops now!"

"At least you don't owe him a sensual back massage." they walked down the hallway, Cameron lost in her thoughts. Most of these thoughts concernedhow she would make out with House's sweaty gym socks if it meant she didn't have to give Chase a massage. She turned to Foreman.

"I will give you a thousand dollars to give it to him for me."

"No," said Foreman instantly. "Not even if I was gay. Which I'm not."

"Do it," said Cameron, "or I'll kill you and stuff you underneath House's desk."

"We could always kill _Chase_ and stuff him underneath House's desk." Dr. House looked up from the ball pit. "Have you two run those scans yet?"

"Not yet, Doctor House," answered Foreman and Cameron in a simultaneous, talking-to-the-teacher monotone.

"Well, much though I support killing Chase, we need to get those scans done on the potato now."

"Why?" said Cameron, frustrated. "We have no idea what's even wrong with it. We haven't even used the white board yet."

"Yes, we have," House responded.

"_No_, we _haven't_." said Foreman "You can still see where someone has drawn 'H+C 4 EVA' on it, look."

Both House and Cameron had a sudden urge to look at the ceiling. House cleared his throat."We have to run scans before we start our complex cycle of misdiagnosing and writing mostly made-up medical terms on the blackboard. It's our system. It works."

"THE PATIENT IS A FREAKIN' POTATO! I LOVE YOU!" Cameron suddenly burst out.

"He can't hear you," groaned Foreman. "The pinball machine is making too much noise."

"Darn. Ah well. It only took me an entire season to work up the courage. I guess I'll just never do it again."

There was a sound almost as though thousands of fans in another dimension had all simultaneously started banging their heads on their keyboards.

The doctors reluctantly left House's office.

"I guess we'd better run these scans," sighed Cameron.

Foreman shook his head. "Seven years of med school to diagnose a root vegetable." Suddenly, a happy thought occurred to him. The thought was this: Potatoes don't have houses.

Potatoes don't have houses.

He wouldn't have to break into another house! He wouldn't have to spend any additional unpaid overtime with Chase, going through people's homes! He could finally, _finally_ work on _just one case_ as a doctor, not a doctor-and-ex-con. Cameron stared as Foreman threw back his head and laughed. "Cameron, could you get the cell samples from Mr. Potato Head? I start calibrating the centerfuge." He positively skipped towards the lab. House camne out of the office on his way to the vending machine. "Foreman, you and Chase are going to have to break into the potato's apartment tomorrow."

Foreman stopped dead. JHe seemd unable to speak, so Cameron said it for him ."Dr. House, potatoes don't have houses!" House dug through his pockets for spare change, found none, and became frustrated when the machine wouldn't accept Vicodin. "I know. That's why I said _apartment_." He walked away to go complain to Cuddy about how it was Stacy's fault he couldn't get his Butterfingers. He wasn't sure how it was Stacy's fault, but she was definitely to blame.

Cameron patted Foreman very gently on the back.His lip started to tremble. "You okay?"

"I think I just wanna be alone for a while."

Cameron nodded understandingly and decided to go follow House around in a I-want-to-kill-you-for-assigning-me-to-a-potato-and-yet-I-love-you kind of way, at least until he got annoyed and told her to go run scans on the freakin' potato. Later, House was innocently waiting for his addictive painkiller refill (the third today) when Cameron and Foreman came to show him the test results. Little did they know that danger was lurking….hiding…waiting for its chance…

"The potato shows low I.Q.…elevated starch…and what's this note you've made here, Foreman? High WOT factor?"

"Waste Of Time factor," said Foreman. "None of the usual jargon applies to vegetables, so I made some up." Cameron stared. He seemed perfectly normal. You'd never really have guessed eh just finished faxing his job application to everywhere that was hiring and a few places that weren't.

"Excellent!" House got out his yo-yo.

"Aha!" yelled Vogler. "HOUSE! UNLESS YOU FIRE YOUR MILDLY INTELLIGENT FLUNKY OR YOUR LOVESICK FLUNKY IMMEDIATELY I WILL SUMMON UP THE DEMON WRZTIQFGL TO GIVE YOU A PERPETUAL BAD HAIR DAY!

---------------------------------------------------

OMGosh gasp Vogler!Will the sarcastic House and his intrepid ducklings be able to defeat the Evil One? And when they're done with Stacy(**1**), will they be able to do something about Vogler?

**1.** This was a joke. It was funny to me.

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers


	4. Dead squirrels and puppyhugging

Silvie apologizes for the incredibly looong lapse, but would like to add that you all have NO IDEA how happy her vast number of reviews makes her. For yea; they are numberless as the number of seasons House will surely run for.

Random Quote of the Day: "People who are rather more than six feet tall and nearly as broad across the shoulders often have uneventful journeys. People jump out at them from behind rocks then say things like, "Oh. Sorry. I thought you were someone else."-_Guards! Guards! _by Terry Pratchett

------------------

Foreman and Cameron gasped. VOGLER?

"Hey!" said Cameron. "'Mildly intelligent'? I resent that!"

"No, said Foreman, "you're the lovesick one. I'm the intelligent one."

"But you and Chase-"

"I-AM-STRAIGHT!" hollered Foreman. "YOU are the lovesick one! TRUST ME!"

"No! I hate House this season! Even though it just seems like I'm just smarting from rejection and we will wind up together! Or maybe that's just a wishful fan clutching at straws!"

"There you go with that 'season' thing again-"  
House interrupted their squabbling drivel. "What are you doing here, Vogler? We got rid of you! _And _your 100 billion dollars!"

"Cuddy cries about that every day in the girl's bathroom," said Cameron dreamily.

"I AM HERE TO FIRE YOU FOR HAVING A YO-YO!" said the former head of the hospital. He broke into maniacal laughter, the lights flickered, and everybody's pens broke, creating spreading ink stains on their shirts. House did an around-the-world. The yo-yo smacked Vogler and he disappeared with a screech and a horrible melting sound.

"I filled it with holy water," said House by means of explanation. "Actually, it's just regular water. Holy water gives me weird burns. I don't know why. Unfortunately, that might mean we have only temporarily banished the Dark One! I say that because he is evil, not because he is black."

"You never mind mocking _me_ because I'm black," pointed out Foreman.

"Vogler is different. He could actually do things to me. For some reason, you don't. You're an easy target. I mock you and I mock you, but you never leave."

"THAT DOES IT!" yelled Foreman. "I QUIT!" He walked out the door. Chase and Cameron stared.

"Aren't you going to stop him?"

"He only does that for Cameron," said Wilson, poking his head around the door. House threw the yo-yo at him.

----------------------------Later

"Thank you for not being sarcastic about anything yet," said Cuddy.

"Cuddy, I would have done anything to get you to put your normal clothes back on." Cuddy shuffled her papers. "House, I asked you here so I could talk to you about how rude you were to that clinic patient last week. She's filing a lawsuit. I understand you don't get along with patients, but could we try to keep it just below the level where they leave dead squirrels on my pillow?"

"Don't exaggerate, Cuddy."

Cuyddy held up a dead squirrel. House stared at it for a minute, then opened his mouth. What will he say, wondered Cuddy. Is he finally going to admit defeat?

"I have a leg infarction," House instead said irrelevantly.

**Wow**, thought Cuddy. **He revealed something about himself! I'd better let him go. If I yell at him now he'll never open up again-no, wait, that's exactly what he wants.**

"Nice try, House," she said aloud.

She looked around. "House?" Her office was empty "HEY, HE ESCAPED WHILE I WAS THINKING! NO FAIR!"

"It's not my fault it takes so long for her," said House, already legging it well down the hall.

Cuddy poked her head around the door of her office and saw him "YOU HAVE 30 EXTRA CLINIC HOURS THIS WEEK!"

"Darn it! I keep forgetting she's my boss, and not afraid of me! Also that sound travels through air, so that somebody can assign you things even as you're limping away! DARN THIS LEG INFARCTION!" House said to himself. To Cuddy he said, "GEE, I HOPE NOBODY IS ASSIGNING ME CLINIC HOURS! I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HEAR THEM BECAUSE I AM CURRENTLY 'ROCKING OUT' TO MY IPOD! OH WELL! LALALALA!" He passed Nurse Brenda, who was shooting tranquilizers into a random escaping patient's neck.

"Your iPod's not on."

"Shh!"

"Oh, hey, House. I have something to tell you. Your patient's caregivers won't let you treat it anymore."

"WHAT? I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT _BELIEVE _THIS, EVEN THOUGH SOMETHING SIMILAR TO IT HAPPENS WITH ALMOST EVERY PATIENT I HAVE!"

Brenda raised the tranquilizer gun. "Whoa, House. Don't make me use this on you, too." House paused. "Does it shoot Vicodin?"

"No."

_House runs into the breakroom. Of course, everyone's favorite slackers are already there._

"Okay, everyone: why won't the patient's caregivers let us treat it?" Cameron stared banging her head against the table. Foreman gritted his teeth.

"The patient…is…A….POTATO!" he said. House stopped in surprise.

"Hey, Foreman. What are you doing back here?"

"Nobody else would hire me. Apparently word has gotten out that all people who have worked for you turn out to have massive, if subtle psychological problems that manifest themselves either in the person consistently taking the last of the coffee without making more, or by going on killing sprees. We can't get hired."

"Like I'd hire anyone _without _psychological problems. Cameron _dated_ me. Because she _wanted_ to. Does that say 'normal' to you? Anyways, I know the patient is a potato. Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Well, since you never visit them, we could be treating a penguin for all you know," muttered Chase.

"Chase, what did we say about that talking thing?"

"I'm..not supposed to do it anymore?" House nodded. "That's right. Try not to forget it. As punishment, you have 30 clinic hours to do this week. Sign in as me."

"Are you using me as a pawn in another feud with Cuddy?" Chase's angelic brow crinkled.

"Well, Chase," said Cameron. "Let's think about this one. He frequently calls you Dr. Pawn, you are only allowed to walk down the hallway diagonally, and the name on your desk reads DR. ROBERT CHASE: PAWN. What do you think?"

"I think maybe I should go break into the potato's apartment now. And then report to the clinic."

"Maybe you should."

------------------------------------

Cameron and Foreman walked down the hallway and saw Chase up ahead, curled up in an alcove, staring straight into the distance. They assumed he had gotten into another staring match with the wall again. That is until they noticed that he was rocking back and forth and sucking his thumb.

"Chase! What's the matter?" called Foreman as they hurried forward.

"I…I…"

"Yes, what is it?" said Cameron, crouching next to Chase.

"I…"

"Did another little kid call you a poo-poo-head?" asked Cameron. "Remember, Chase, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but-"

"No….it's worse than that…I lost my little flashlight!"

Both doctors gasped involuntarily. All traffic along the hallway stopped as everyone, including the janitor, stared at Chase in horror. A doctor without a flashlight is like the sky without the sun: very blue and rather pointless.

"What?" cried Foreman in horror as Cameron recoiled. "The little penlight that all of us, ALL OF US have in a hidden breast pocket somewhere-"

"Or in my case, just a pocket, because it's not like women ever are seen using those stupid things-" muttered Cameron.

"Ready to whip out as soon as our patient of the week goes into a coma,"

"Or has a seizure, or blows their nose," added Cameron.

"Or faints," interjected Brenda, passing by.

"Or does anything else unexpected?" said Cuddy.

"Yes," said Chase miserably. All of the doctors gasped.

"But Chase," said Cuddy, "The Hippocratic Oath! "Do no harm, and keep thy flashlight near and dear, blah blah blah!" Cameron looked at Cuddy "'Blah blah blah?' That is a sacred and important oath!"

"I was never actually a doctor," Cuddy revealed. "I have an art degree; I'm just the only person so far who doesn't go into mental breakdown when having to deal with You-Know-Who. In upper administrative circles I am revered as a goddess by the name of She-Who-Dresses-Inappropriately-For-The-Workplace."

"You-Know-Who?" Cameron was confused. "You-Know-Who," said Foreman in an impressive mythological voice. "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the Dark Lord Sarcasmort. Devourer of Bosses. Hospital heads flee before Him, for He Speaks Loudly and Carries a Big Cane. Lo, the Piles of His Paperwork are Large and Distressing; His Personal Problems Numerous as the Stars in the Sky. He-" Cameron slapped Foreman. "Hel-_lo_?" said Chase in annoyance. "I LOST my FLASHLIGHT! Could we focus on ME for a second here?" "Oh. Right," said Cameron. "You're not a doctor, Brenda, give him your flashlight!"

"NEVER!" said Brenda, raising her tranquilizer gun.

"But he'll go into withdrawal! He'll pass out!"

"Wait, Cameron. Let's think," said Foreman, laying a hand on her arm as Chase flopped over on the floor in the fetal position. "When he does, then we'll check his eyes and get to use **our** flashlights."

"We won't be able to hear from Chase! For…three…hours." Said Cuddy, catching on.

They all fell silent, imagining what they could get done if Chase was just out of the way for three glorious golden hours. And all the times they'd be able to whip out their penlights and check his pupils. I think by this point we all know that Chase does not get a flashlight again until after he wakes up from his withdrawal coma.

-----------------------------------------

Wilson and Cameron came around the corner, laughing and chattingin a platonic way, at least for Cameron.Wilson, you never know. House, wearing an ironed shirt, was humming and drawing daisies on the whiteboard. They stopped and stared.

"Hmmm," said Cameron. "Does House strike you as a little…different today?" House burst into song, threw his Vicodin out the wondow and clicked his heels.

"You mean, ever since he came back from that overnight trip with his ex-girlfriend whom he still loves and who has been having relationship trouble with her husband?" asked Wilson. They both watched House turn a few cartwheels.

"Yeah," said Cameron eventually.

House hugged a puppy.

"No, not really," said Wilson. "Why, do you?"

"I dunno, there's just this weird vibe about him today."

"Well," said Wilson, "we can test that." He cleared his throat and yelled, "SHE'S MARRIED!" House ran into his office with his fingers in his ears. Cameron and Wilson looked at each other and shrugged.

"I can't show any emotion because the producers don't want House/Cammers getting hope," said Cameron. "Chase is still out like a light, getting Cuddy involved is not worth it and Foreman is too much of a jerk."

Wilson was surprised. "Why would you say that?"

"I dunno. Doesn't he strike you as the type of person who, when stressed, would go on a self-centered hypodermic needle stabbing spree?" Wilson considered this.

"Um. ….No?"

"Sometimes it seems that way when I'm with him." Cameron laughed nervously. "I guess I'm just being silly. I mean, there's no way that would actually happen. We're friends."

"Speaking of friends, yelling at House would be a job for one of them, so I'll just go-" started Wilson, hoping to avoid having to deal with House.

"You are his friend."

"What about Bus Stop Guy?"

Cameron looked at him. "Oh. Right." Wilson instantly exploded with indignation.

"HOUSE! SHE'S MARRIED!" House stuck his head out of his office.

"I know! I broke up with her!" Wilson exploded again.

"WHAT? HOW COULD YOU! YOU WANT TO BE MISERABLE BECAUSE IT MAKES YOU SPECIAL!"

"YOU'RE MAD AT HIM FOR DATING HER AND THEN YOU'RE MAD AT HIM FOR _NOT _DATING HER? ARE YOU ON CRACK? IF YOU'RE AS BAD AT DIAGNOSING PATIENTS AS YOU ARE AT DIAGNOSING PERSONAL PROBLEMS-" Cameron shrieked. House and Wilson stared at her.

"Cameron, this is between me and Doctor House. So if you wouldn't mind-" Cameron glowered but left. "And I am not on crack!" Wilson yelled after her.

-----------------

The floor is lava,  
Silverfingers


End file.
